


Umbra Mage

by CreatorZaruel (orphan_account)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Magic, Nudity, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Witcheress ending/Blood and Wine AU, Smut, Straight Sex, This is gonna be a fun time yall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 03:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CreatorZaruel
Summary: Fringilla is ordered by the Emperor to investigate a notable Zerrikanian mage in Velen. What she finds leads her through a spiral she won't soon forget.





	Umbra Mage

**Author's Note:**

> Hey i'm here again with a six chapter story featuring Fringilla who is harshly under appreciated.
> 
> Be sure to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/CreatorZaruel) for thoughts and updates and such.
> 
> Of course your thoughts on the chapter below, i always welcome and heavily encourage all types of feedback

The villagers of Midcopse could be counted as the luckiest peasants in all of Velen. They had come to rely on the now gone Keira metz and as such her sudden departure had left them struggling the following winters. Dead livestock, dry crops and worst of all sickness seemed to slowly make its way through their modest village. Men, women and children all prayed to whatever god would hear their cries for another saviour. Their prayers were answered and one came dressed in black.

The man took up Kiera’s role happily, giving the same tried and true advice that Kiera did with the same conditions too, tell nobody about his existence in that small hut in the woods.

Winter was soon approaching Velen and this of course was the hardest time for the village, they had never seemed to take any of the advice they had gotten to heart though as he often had to repeat what he thought to be basic things. There had been too many cases where he had to remind people to separate themselves from their waste, bathe regularly, keep their farm animals as far away as them as they could.

It was exhausting truly. On some level he admired their tenacity and their work ethic, tending fields in scorching sun or freezing winter like clockwork. He was envious of that, their love for routine and patterns.

It was almost the beginning of the winter chill in Velen, awkwardly,the sun was shining and the breeze was racing beautifully, but it was shining through almost leafless trees. Winter was just around the corner and this rare sun was just a red herring.

The man of course had days where he would rather not be bothered but the villagers saw it more as guidelines as opposed to rules, something he had to grow accustomed too. A situation like this which caused a man to race through the bushes towards the healers hut. As anyone would approach the hut things seemed to become quiet, tranquil even. Animals never roamed near the hut, even birds flew around it instead of over it. All one could hear or see was nature acting completely uninterrupted

A loud knock eventually forced the man to rise from his daydream simply lying there and listening to the breeze fly through the trees. He sighed and rose from his bed, throwing on his loose white shirt and black pants and black boots before going to the door. He opened it and was immediately assaulted by the frantic mans words. He had to ignore him for a few seconds as he tried to find his bearings, Velen had a sense of dark mysticism in it not at all like where he came from, life seemed simpler there.

“Sir please ye have to help us, my little girl y’see, she’s grown sick and-” 

He held up his hand to silence the begging man and yawned deeply into his fist, his eyes watering as he took in a deepth breath of the shit and corpse filled air of Velen. The sun shined on his dark skin and as his hazel eyes adjusted to the light he saw the slightly tanned, tall and stocky man.

Judging from the bags under his eyes he had been up all night either crying or simply refusing to sleep. Hampden went back into his hut and retrieved a fairly large black satchel and walked on over to the crumbling man.

“Lead me to her, Ager” He said calmly as he patted the man on his back. 

“What about your usual payment sir?”

“We can discuss that after we’ve healed your daughter, yes?” Hampden said warmly as he pushed the man’s back to walk on to Midcopse.

“It’s hard sir, she usually wakes us up and gets paint on our sheets showing us whatever she’s drawn that early in the mornin’ but now she-” Hampden put his hand on his shoulder, offering some kind of comfort. The two man began to walk on again, quickening their pace.

It wasn’t a long journey to Midcopse by any means, after a five minute brisk walk the two men were already there, waving hands greeting the healer as he walked through the village with him only offering a bright smile in return. 

“Hampden! Isn’t common that you come to us” A young woman said cheerily as she ran up to the tall man, tired man. He returned a warm smile yet again and leaned in to hug her, the two sharing a warm momentary embrace. She was one of the flowers of Midcopse, a beautiful young woman who seemed to gravitate to Hampden whenever he visited the village though she hadn’t plucked up the courage to visit him yet.

“I’m afraid the visit isn’t under pleasant circumstances, i’ll talk to you later my love” Hampden said as he continued to walk on with the man, his hand and hers struggling to let go of each other as he walked away from her, “You still owe me that dinner!” The woman shouted as she was met with small wave. She bit her lip as her misty eyes stayed fixed on him.

Before approaching the house a black cat met Hampen’s eyes. It hissed and immediately ran away from the healer into the bushes behind the house.

“Sorry about that, Faye is usually really good with strangers i’m not sure why she’s so startled” Ager uttered apologetically.

“Bear it no more thought” Hampden smiled as he went to open the door.

A woman instantly came into view, knelt next to a bed. The smell of vomit instantly met Hampden’s nose, out of respect he kept his hands to his side him complaining about the smell was the last thing either of the parents needed. In the bed was a young girl who couldn’t have been older than eleven years old. Her skin was sickly and pale and as Hampden met her gaze her lifeless eyes met his own, whatever semblance of life she had was fleeting.

“Thank ye for coming sir” The woman said through tears as she stood up to shake Hampden’s hand. He extended his own and walked past her towards the little girl, he knelt beside the bed and took her small pale hand into his large dark one. She mustered up some strength to squeeze one of his fingers but her lack of strength just sank his heart lower and lower in his chest. 

“What is your name, little one?”

“Briana” 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Hampden” He said warmly

“Nice to meet you Hampden” The child said with a smile fighting its way through her expression.

“How long has she been sick?” Hampden asked as he turned to the mother. She stood side by side with Ager trying to find some sort of comfort in his rugged arms. 

“A few weeks? We tried praying at first, hoping the gods could help but..”

The woman fell silent and cried into Ager’s shirt, tear marks starting to form on his light blue collar. A quiet ember of rage started to grow in Hampden, he had done nothing but help and try to guide these people for months now and through all his near miracles they still relied on the help of gods who didn’t care about them. It always confused him, that the people of Velen would pray to their gods, what god could even allow a place like Velen to exist?

Hampden sighed and put his bag on the floor opening it to reveal all kinds of wonderful and mystical plants. He pulled out a few basic green herbs with his mortar and pestle and started the grind them together, with some strange, pungent white powder here and a few drops of a strange blood red liquid there, he had made a sort of yellow brown paste. He scraped out the paste into a vial and put a cork to cover the smell. He reached into his bag to get a small silver spoon and stood up to face the parents.

He gave the vial and the spoon to the parents brought them in closer his following words in a hushed, commanding tone, “Mix two teaspoons of this in whatever she drinks or eats, four times a day until there is none left and gods willing she should start to recover” The mother immediately wrapped her arms around Hampden before he slowly pushed her away.

“However, if she shows no signs of recovery give her this” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small yellow flower. He sighed and put the flower in Ager’s hands and closed his palm. 

“Crush it and put it on her tongue while she sleeps, she’ll die peacefully with her mind full of dreams” Hampden said warmly has he fastened his satchel. The two parents nodded solemnly, knowing not to weep at his words, not yet at least.

“I hope your daughter makes a quick recovery” Hampden said as his eyes darted between the two parents. His heart obviously bled for them, no parent should have to see their children die. That is how life in Velen seemed to go through, Briana wouldn’t be the first child to die in Velen if she did.

Before Hampden had the chance to leave the hut Auger approached him, shuffling quietly in his presence, “The payment, sir?”

“Ah yes, just two will do this time” Hampden said warmly as he put his hand on Ager’s shoulder. A cold chill swept through Ager as Hampden’s hand touched him, his hands started to sweat, he nodded and opened the door for the healer who made his way home.

***  
Vizima didn’t quite feel the seasons as other parts of the continent did. Kovir of course went through periods of harsh winters and not so harsh winters while velen and subsequently novigrad felt each season in its harshest, from scorching summers to biting winters. Vizima however was so densely packed however that it only felt what could only be described as the mediocrity of the four seasons. 

Vizima’s mediocrity was only in its weather though, it was of course the crown jewel of the northern realms and home to the most powerful man on the continent, Emperor Emhyr var Emreis. The ruler had momentum in his favour as he managed to defeat Radovid and firmly establish himself in Velen, Oxenfurt and most importantly of all, Novigrad. Now that he had another conquer under his belt he set his eyes to new horizons namely the Skellige Isles. 

He would need to change his tactics up for a conquest such as this though. The clans of skellige were unfortunately stronger than ever under the new queens rule. Their infighting ceased which was the only way he saw to beat them. Yes it was true to him and all his advisors, an invasion of the Skellige Isles using the same tactics they had employed for the rest of their growing empires conquest would be a definite defeat. 

This is what Emhyr had been stewing on for the past few months, how to defeat Queen Cerys. Of course any advisor that gave him the idea would be heralded as a tactical legend and be forever gilded in Nilfgaardian history. Which unfortunately tempted a lot of advisors with no military experience whatsoever to give their opinion, as if it meant anything.

“I think we should form a mage unit, they would wreak havoc on the seas” A financial advisor quipped, the emperor unfortunately had to put with many stupid ideas but stupid ideas always trumped fearful ones. He would rather have stupid ideas than none, which is why he opened his war room to all his advisors across all sections of his government.

“Against the druids of Skellige our ships and mages would be wiped out” Emhyr’s chief mage advisor said as she sipped wine from her chalice. 

“That’ll be all, thank you everyone, as always” Emhyr said his words dripping with disappointment. Skellige had been a thorn in his side for too long, any nation that felt as secure as they did while sharing a continent with the White Flame needed to know fear. It wasn’t just an expansion issue, politically Emhyr had to make a display to other not yet conquered nations that his empire was a machine that could never be stopped.

Murmurs and indistinct chatter filled that air as his advisors stood up to leave, all but one.

“Anthanasia, you’re still here” Emhyr said still not turning around from the window, his movements slow. 

“I am, your excellency, there’s reports from some of my scouts that there’s another healer in Midcopse”

“You suspect it's another one of the lodge?” Emhyr replied sharply, the report he got on Keira Metz was certainly interesting, it gave him dull amusement that someone of Keira’s standards would be living in Velen of all places and then she would run off with a witcher. It was indeed quite the tale.

“I think it’s entirely possible. Keira gives advice to a fellow sorceress seeking refuge, who else could it be?” Emhyr stood and took a sip of his wine as he looked on over out of his palace window. Vizima was beautiful at night, stunning architecture blossomed on every building like most parts of Nilfgaardian culture it could easily be mistaken for elven.

The lodge’s infamy and former power didn’t just come from the fact that they were a collective of powerful sorceresses. It was their intellect and cunning coupled with their magical prowess which lead them to be hunted by Emhyr. He had let most of them go when their usefulness ran out but he of course kept tabs on them just in case they lended their knowledge to any rival political power. 

“What do you advise?” Emhyr asked lowly.

“We send one of our lodge contacts to investigate just on the off chance it is one of their sisters then whoever we choose will be the best to handle it” Anthanasia was right of course. One of the reasons so many members of the lodge had stayed alive even through the active hunting they received was because they hardly trusted anyone. It’s part of the reason the lodge was formed in the first place, to have a circle of trust among mages.

“Whoever is hiding i’m sure we can offer them better protection than what they are receiving by hiding in Velen, in return we could add them to the mage advisory council. Many of the men at this table are morons but there is one thing that does ring true, magic will be the way we win the war in the Skellige Isles” Anthanasia said boldly. 

Emhyr paused for a moment before finally turning around to face Anthanasia. He sat back into his chair and paused for a moment, his cheek resting into his fist. 

“Send a letter to Fringilla requesting her immediate audience, you will explain the situation to her when she arrives, now if there's nothing else” Emhyr said as he waved his hand to dismiss her. She nodded and made her way out of the war room. It was annoying for both Emhyr and Anthanasia that the members of the Lodge of Sorceresses were both some of the most powerful and cunning mages in the entire northern realms, the perfect people to have on your side in a war.

***  
Fringilla after the war had found herself back in Toussaint aiming to stay away from all the politics and troubles that came with the other realms. It was really the only place she could call home. After imprisonment she had sought to find a more peaceful life where she could practice magic and enjoy all the luxuries life had to offer, and where else better than Toussaint for such things.

To make money and keep up with her lifestyle though she had started private lessons for the upper echelons of Toussaint who had magically gifted children. It was surprising and almost sad how much money the rich of Toussaint would pay for private lessons for their children not wanting them to learn from state employed mages. With quiet word of mouth Fringilla Vigo was the go to private mage tutor in Toussaint.

Admittedly her newfound life did lend itself to loneliness. She had chosen not to get into contact with her former members of the lodge, even Yennefer who was rumoured to have retired in Toussaint with Geralt. The constant fleeting life of students, a non existent friend network and constantly returning to an empty home made her feel isolated, even if only ever for a few moments.

“Five more Annabelle!” Fringilla ordered as she watched her student fold shirt after shirt with her magic. 

“But Miss Vigo-”

“Ah! Not a word or i’ll make you do pants as well” Vigo said as she continued to sip water while reading her book. The restless girl growled as she continued to fold shirts over and over again, the wonder of magic wore off on its users after a time. For this particular girl this was probably it, when she had to use her marvelous “gift” to fold clothes. It grew frustrating of course, shirt after shirt as out of the corner of her eye she could see her master having a rather relaxing time watching her student do her laundry. In what could only be described as a reckless protest she eyed Fringilla glass of water and flicked it ever so slightly with her wrist causing it to fly in Fringilla face.

The older sorceress sat shocked for a moment letting the water drip from her face as her student giggled to herself. Fringilla let out a long sigh and stood up to stride towards to her student, making no effort to wipe her face adding to the laughter she received. It annoyed Fringilla to no end that she had a soft spot for Annabelle.

“If you think you're so clever how about a little friendly competition, a good old water fight by the lake?”

“Finally some fun! i'll meet you by the lake!” Annabelle immediately bursted into a sprint towards the lake just outside Fringilla's home leaving the pile of shirts in her stride. The older sorceress chuckled to herself softly and clicked her fingers, feeling the water rushed from her face into the air then into a newly formed puddle on the ground.

She clicked her fingers again immediately teleported to the lake, startling Annabelle.

“How long until you teach me that?!” Annabelle cried cheerily as she was rushing to take off her shoes and socks.

“Perhaps if impress me with some water magic I'll give it a thought” Annabelle rolled her eyes and jumped into the lake, once again splashing Fringilla as she crashed into the water. The young mage was certainly gifted, she was sharper than most sorceress her age, especially among her noble peer group. Youth breeds arrogance however and it was something Fringilla was desperate to suppress in her student.

“You're quite lucky it's a warm morning or I might be a little more annoyed with the splashes” Fringilla whipped as she stood, hand on hip watching over her student swimming around. Fringilla waved her hand causing an ever so small splash of water to make its way to Annabelle.

“Oh come on! Father said you were a master!” Annabelle scoffed as she pushed the small wave away. Fringilla laughed then quickly whipped her hand in a spiral causing twister of water to form under Annabelle. She brought her hand upwards causing the water to rise, pushing Annabelle out of the lake and into the air her body resting on a spiral of water.

Innocent, childish laughter blessed Fringilla's ears as she saw her student suspended in air with a large grin spread across her face. Annabelle's arrogance was hard to hate,after all Fringilla acted the exact same way when she was eleven.

Fringilla made a separation motion with her hands causing the water to disperse from under Annabelle sending the young girl hurtling towards the lake. After a few moments she emerged from the lake with that same grin plastered on her face. She swam to the shore where Fringilla extended a hand to help her out of the lake.

“I don't want teleportation, I want that” Annabelle said, her sun touched hair resting against her face.

“If you complete all the excersises for today before sundown I'll teach it to you in our lesson next week” 

Her proposition was met with a fierce nod from Annabelle. She thought about drying the young girl but it was ill advised to teach young mages spells for convenience sake, it instilled bad habits that would follow them for the rest of their lives. Besides it was a beautiful day, the warm autumn breeze ought to be enough.

Fringilla resumed her position reading as Annabelle went back to folding shirts but with a renewed sense of purpose. Truthfully Fringilla wasn't used to teaching like this, effectively being a magic tutor for children wasn't something she had envisioned herself doing in her life. It wasn't even an hour before a horse with the banner or Nilfgaard happened upon her small lakeside estate.

The man on top of it, dressed in all black with a single bright yellow sun on his chest jumped off of his horse and looked around before meeting eyes with Fringilla.

“Miss Vigo?” The man said as he walked towards her.

“Yes, and who might you be?”

“Philippe aep Reanauld, official messenger of Emhyr var Emries. The emperor has requested your presence in Vizima.” Fringilla's heart sank for a moment, the very idea of being in his presence again filled her with an anxiety she hadn't felt since she was in his prison. The silver lining was that it couldn't be malicious, if the emperor wanted her dead she already would be.

“May I ask what it's for?” Fringilla said, still trying to keep her composure despite the growing pit inside of her.

“I hold no such information, you will have to ask him yourself” he said curtly as he went back to his horse.

“I'll gather my things”

The messenger nodded and rode off from her estate, his black figure blurring in the distance. As soon as he was out of view Fringilla immediately clutched her chest, her heart beating faster and faster. 

What did the emperor want?  
Was this his way of saying he still had power over her?  
She'd rather he simply put in arrow in her to prove his dominance.  
What had she done to deserve his attention?

The pit inside of her grew deeper and deeper, sounds began to turn away from her, swear started to come upon her face, her breathing ragged and full of fear.

Her minds erratic racing immediately found its lane as she felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She looked down to see Annabelle hugging her saying nothing. Fringilla stroked her hair each smotion slowing her heart rate ever so slightly. She wouldn't try to make her student helping her with a panic attack a regular occurrence.

“Come little one, I'll take you home” Fringilla said softly.

“Will you still teach me that water spell?” Annabelle said worriedly as she looked on over to pile of unfolded shirts.

“Of course”

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/CreatorZaruel) and leave your thougths on the chapter in the comments!


End file.
